


Razor Burn

by eeyore9990



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Based on a Tumblr Post, Car Sex, First Time, Hand Jobs, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-11-14
Updated: 2013-11-14
Packaged: 2018-01-01 11:44:36
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,670
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1044434
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/eeyore9990/pseuds/eeyore9990
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Derek isn't usually the one squirming during late night stake outs.</p><p> </p><p>*Based on the half-nekked pics of Hoechlin that flooded my Tumblr feed yesterday.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Razor Burn

**Author's Note:**

> Based on the leather jacket, naked torso, aborted happy trail pic of Hoechlin, which can be found [here](http://tonyduran.net/categories/celebrity/galleries/tyler-hoechlin/slideshow#299). 
> 
> My pre-reader, Angela, said it best: "I wanna punch whoever decided shaving his treasure trail would be a good idea. I mean, c'mon!"
> 
> Amen, bb. A-fuckin'-men.

The Jeep, parked deep in the Preserve, rocked as Derek shifted in his seat. For the hundredth time in, like, ten minutes.

 _"What?"_ Stiles turned from watching the forest to stare at Derek in the passenger seat, deeply unamused. 

"What, what?" Derek asked, then had the sense to roll his eyes at himself before Stiles could say anything. And then he fucking squirmed. Again.

Stiles flailed at him with both hands. "That! What the hell, man? Is this some kind of passive aggressive payback for me tapping my foot in the last meeting? I said I was sorry, dude. Not cool."

"No, I..." Derek's face flushed, noticeable even in the near-darkness, and he opened and closed his mouth before shrugging. "It's nothing. Don't worry about it. Ignore me."

Stiles huffed, but went back to staring at a bunch of goddamn trees when Derek didn't say anything else.

It was less than thirty seconds—Stiles was counting—before Derek squirmed with a little breathy noise. Oh god, seriously, with the noise now too? Stiles was so not going to survive this night without popping a boner.

"Dude, I am only going to say this once. If you have to take a piss or something, there are a ton of empty water bottles in the back floorboard. Just...grab one and I'll, like, hum or something while you take care of it."

"I don't have to p— You know what? Fuck. Just...do you have some lotion or something?" Derek asked, face turned so all Stiles could see was his profile, his jaw clenching.

"Lotion?" Stiles asked and then... _"Lotion?"_ His shocked gaze immediately dropped to Derek's lap as his lungs just _stopped working_. A whoosh of air left him when he analyzed the ever-present bulge in Derek's jeans and realized that, nope, it was the same size confidence-leaching bulge Derek always sported. 

"Oh my _god_ , Stiles, I'm not going to..." Derek bit off the rest of what he was going to say with a curse, his shoulders drooping as he squirmed again. "It's...god, this is embarrassing. Thanks for that."

"No problem," Stiles murmured thoughtlessly, before he smacked himself in the forehead. "Wait. What's embarrassing?"

Derek sighed and rolled his head on the headrest until he was looking directly at Stiles, eyes pale in the dim light from the moon. "Cora pranked me. It's something she used to do when we were kids and...honestly, I should have seen this coming."

Licking his lips, Stiles dropped his gaze to Derek's lap again. "Cora. Your sister. Did something to your dick?" Stiles did _not_ find that hot. No. Not hot. Opposite of hot. 

_Fuck._ And there was the boner he'd known would make an untimely arrival. _Thanks, inappropriate hormones._ And Game of Thrones for making incest one of Stiles' unintended kinks.

Fucking Jamie Lannister and his perfect face.

"Not...Jesus, Stiles. Not my dick, okay. She didn't do _anything_ to my dick—"

"Thank god!" Okay, probably that was over-playing it. Shit.

Sliding Stiles an unamused glare, Derek shrugged and popped the button on his jeans. "She put some mistletoe infused oil on my razor. I have...a rash."

Being the idiot he was, Stiles immediately frowned in confusion, looking at Derek's heavily-stubbled jawline. "But you didn't...oh. Oh my shit. _Did you shave your balls?!_ " He cupped his own in sympathy.

"No! Not my balls, just...here." Derek lowered his zipper— _which was not exactly how ninety percent of Stiles' masturbatory fantasies started_ —and lifted his shirt. 

With an internal shrug, Stiles hit the interior light and leaned over to look. If Derek was going to show him his dick, Stiles was totally going to take advantage of the best thing to happen to him since ever. 

Instead of Derek's dick, though, what he saw was the thin line of Derek's treasure trail—which he'd maybe wanted to lick a time or fifty—and the reddened patch of clean skin right beneath it.

"Oh, damn, dude," Stiles breathed. "Does that hurt?"

"Not really. Just...itches. So." Derek looked at Stiles expectantly. Brain stuck on Derek's opened jeans, his abs, and his treasure trail, Stiles started to reach over the space between their seats to offer his hand to scratch the irritated skin when Derek said, "Lotion?"

Immediately changing the trajectory of his hand's path across the Jeep, Stiles nodded and said, "Yeah, pretty sure I have some in the glovebox. For, you know, emergency Happy Stiles time." 

_Oh god._

Stiles yanked open the glovebox, mentally berating himself for the idiotic things his mouth said when his brain wasn't paying attention. Spotting the mostly empty bottle, he snagged it and tossed it at Derek like a hot potato.

Catching the bottle one-handed, Derek stared down at it with an unreadable look on his face.

"Oh right," Stiles said. He grabbed the bottle and opened the cap, thumping it against his palm for a minute to get a small puddle to plop out. "Just," he made circling motions with his fingers. "Rub it in real good. It's fragrance-free and hypo-allergenic, so it shouldn't aggravate...anything."

When Derek didn't make a move, Stiles shrugged and dipped his fingers in the lotion. "Pop the seat back," he said, reaching for Derek's lap.

Derek's all-new, noticeably _bulgier_ lap. "Stiles..."

"Pop the seat back," Stiles said again, his voice husky even to his own ears. 

It got so quiet Stiles could _hear_ it when Derek swallowed. And then, "Fuck. Stiles, I—"

"Push your jeans down. I don't want to get," he paused, let the silence build for a precious minute, " _lotion_ on them."

Derek closed his eyes in defeat, his hand dropping to fumble beside the seat.

And oh god, the _power_ that simple act sent though Stiles nearly had him cackling like an evil Disney queen. Derek Hale was laying back in Stiles' Jeep, in preparation for Stiles touching him. It was a heady moment that became even more potent when Derek pushed his jeans down to mid-thigh. His half-hard dick curved sideways under the lowered waistband of his boxer briefs, and Stiles' mouth fucking _watered_ at the sight.

Not wanting Derek to have time to think, Stiles swiped a lotion-covered finger over the irritated skin above the elastic waistband. If his pinky brushed Derek's dick, well...close quarters and a darkened interior. He smoothed the lotion into Derek's skin in light, teasing circles, brushing against his dick on every downstroke until there was a damp spot on his briefs.

Stiles said the first thing that came to mind, in an attempt to forestall any complaints. "Who did you do this for?"

Derek sighed and rolled his hips up against Stiles' touch. "The other night. The meeting."

Mouth completely dry at the flex of muscle and the warmth of the skin under his fingers, Stiles just made a questioning noise.

"After."

Stiles tried to remember, but he was _touching_ Derek, okay? It was hard.

Hur. _Hard._

"You said...'well-groomed.'" Derek's voice was barely a whisper, and he ran his tongue over his bottom lip, which. Unfair.

Stiles heard what Derek _didn't_ say. "You... For me?"

There was something almost frightened about the look Derek shot him. "I..."

"Oh, fuck this," Stiles muttered, getting lotion fucking _everywhere_ , but he did not have a single fuck to give because Derek had groomed his general dick area for Stiles. 

Romance, baby.

It was awkward, and there was not nearly as much room as one would think in a Jeep, but Stiles somehow got himself pressed half-over Derek, enough for a sloppy kiss. When Derek threaded his fingers in the hair at the back of Stiles' head, he slipped his hand under the band of Derek's underwear. Palm already covered with lotion, it was _easy._. A nice, slick slide from base to tip and back down.

Derek's hips hitched, fucking into Stiles' grip. Stiles honestly couldn't remember what they'd come out to the Preserve to look for at that point, but with the way the Jeep was surely rocking, they'd probably scared it away.

"Stiles," Derek groaned against his lips, pulling away to press their foreheads together as he looked down his body at where Stiles was jacking him.

"Yeah." Stiles nodded, which was probably a stupid thing to do because it wasn't like Derek had asked a question.

But it was apparently what Derek had been waiting for, because his breath broke and his dick swelled in Stiles' grasp just before come began to pulse from the tip, landing in thick stripes on his chest. His shirt-covered chest. Oops.

"Oh my god," Stiles breathed, watching as Derek shot a few more times before his hips relaxed against the seat again. He ran his fist up the still-hard length one more time, just because. "That's so hot."

Catching sight of the still-reddened skin above Derek's dick, Stiles made a sympathetic noise and leaned down, pressed his lips to it in a gentle kiss. Derek's stomach bunched and tightened even as his dick twitched in Stiles' loosened grip.

"Holy shit, dude, really?" Stiles asked, awed.

"I thought you were gonna..." Derek swallowed, eyes flickering between Stiles lips and Derek's dick.

Stiles' fingers flexed, dragging a low noise from Derek. "I can," he said, nodding eagerly. "Hell, I _want to_. But not here."

"Later?"

"Fuck later," Stiles muttered, moving back to his seat and fumbling his seat belt on. "Text Scott. Tell him something came up and he needs to come keep an eye out for the...whatever we were looking for." Cranking the engine, Stiles shifted into reverse and peeled out. "We have _research_ to do at your apartment."

Derek grabbed the 'oh shit' handle and tucked himself away with his free hand. "Research, huh?"

"Yep. Refractory period of a werewolf. It'll be ongoing research," Stiles said, slanting a look at Derek for some kind of confirmation as the Jeep bumped down the road.

"Sounds good. Just so long as you don't expect me to shave down there again."

Stiles just grinned.

**Author's Note:**

> This was just a bit of fun I wrote while plotting out a bigger story line for a new 'verse. And while letting thoughts for a side fic in an existing 'verse percolate. Basically, I am writing all the things. So. This is a one-shot, is what I'm saying. :P


End file.
